


Prophecy

by captainahmedica



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angsty Isaac Lahey, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Isaac Lahey Feels, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sassy Peter Hale, Work In Progress, Young Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainahmedica/pseuds/captainahmedica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac meets a mysterious new student named Peter, who claims to have some advice for Isaac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER ALERT: Takes place sometime after the events of episode 3x07 'Currents' and before 3x08 'Visionary'; only loosely attached to canon so don't mind any discrepancies.
> 
> Based on a request by [camdenlahey.tumblr.com](http://camdenlahey.tumblr.com), which was based on a GIF set by [betalaheyed.tumblr.com](http://betalaheyed.tumblr.com).

Isaac couldn't remember the last time he had a panic attack while at school. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had a panic attack that didn't spawn from a nightmare.

He was in the library when he began to feel dizzy and sweat beads began forming on his face. Before anyone could notice, he retreated to the nearest men's room and shut himself into a stall, trying to calm himself down.

He tried to roll up some toilet paper to wipe his face with but his hands were trembling all too violently to accomplish any task. He felt his throat closing up and he started hyperventilating, which didn't help at all. His body was on fire and he had no idea what was happening.

_Isaac._

He looked around the tall, plain walls of his stall, eyes wide and full of fear and confusion. He opened his mouth to reply but no sound came out.

_Isaac, I'm going to have to punish you. You know that, Isaac._

He lowered himself a bit, hands gripping at the walls and slipping from the sweat that slicked his palm. He pushed outward as though the walls were closing in on him.

_You killed me. It's your fault. It's your fault and now I'm going to kill you, Isaac._

He could barely breathe anymore. He was helpless. He began banging on the stall walls as hard as he could, trying to get anyone's attention. He shook his head as he kept pushing and banging on the walls and drawing short breaths through his gritted teeth.

_Your fault, you pathetic loser. No one wants you, Isaac. You'll always be alone. It's YOUR fault._

He had just about dented the walls with his fists when he heard a different voice.

"Isaac!"

He gasped suddenly and filled his lungs with all the air they could hold. The panic attack was over. He drew more deep breaths as he tried to recover from his episode.

"Isaac?"

The voice that had snapped him out of it repeated his name. He didn't recognize it. He remained quiet as he spotted a pair of legs approaching his stall from under the barrier.

"Isaac... are you okay? I heard banging..."

"W-who are you?" Isaac managed to mutter.

"I, um, well... you don't know me. But I'm new here. I'm in a bunch of your classes. And I saw you stumble out of the library... I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Isaac furrowed his brow and tried to remember anyone new in his classes. He couldn't. But who else could he be? Maybe he just never noticed him. Why did he care, anyway?

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine," Isaac spoke in a deep, monotonous tone.

"Well... okay. I'm sorry." Isaac listened to the footsteps as they left the restroom.

A few minutes later he finally got up and out of his stall and splashed some cold water on his face, examining himself in the mirror for a moment. What the hell was that all about?

Still a bit shaken, he made his way to the last class of the day: chemistry. When he arrived, Ms. Blake was standing at the door. "Mr. Lahey, pleasure to see you could make it to class. Have a seat."

"S-sorry... I was in... the bathroom," he scratched the back of his neck. Embarrassed, he scanned the room for an open desk when his eyes stopped on one student sitting in the front of the class, staring straight at him. He didn't back stare for long but he caught sight of his shoes. The same shoes that were in the bathroom earlier. The seat behind him was the only one empty, and so he had no choice but to sit there.

Halfway through class, the student's hand slipped a note to Isaac.

_Can we talk after school?_

Isaac, confused, scribbled 'why?' onto the tiny square of paper and tapped the kid with it. He took it, fumbled with it for a little bit, then placed it back on Isaac's desk.

_It's about Scott._

The bell rang and class was dismissed when the student turned to Isaac. "So... can we talk?"

They packed up and walked outside together. Once by the road, he introduced himself. "I'm Peter."

"Isaac. But you already know that..." he said suspiciously.

"Yeah. Sorry if I weirded you out with that. The thing is, I know some things. About this town... and its secrets."

Isaac smiled to himself, thinking that this kid had no idea what he was talking about. Although he was unsure what Peter was getting at. "You said you wanted to talk about Scott. What about him?"

"Well, you see, when I say I know some things, I really mean I know everything about this town. Especially about you and your friends."

"You don't know the first thing..." Isaac began, growing annoyed at Peter's blabbering.

"I know about your panic attacks. You haven't had one in a while. And I think they only started coming back when you moved in with Scott."

Isaac was taken aback. He opened his mouth to the beginnings of the word "How..." when Peter continued.

"Because you feel alone again. Sure, Scott's a great friend and all, but he's not the guardian you need. The father figure you've always wanted. Besides, how can you trust him when he hasn't even told you yet?" Peter spoke with such confidence and about things Isaac didn't know anyone else had even known about, that it scared Isaac a bit. He could barely react.

"Told me what?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh boy. You might want to sit down for this one." Isaac glared at him. "Or not, standing is fine." Peter paused for a moment and looked up at Isaac, reading him before speaking. "Isaac... Scott is an alpha. You'd think if you're living together these things wouldn't be kept secret, you know?"

Isaac grew suddenly angry. He grabbed at Peter's collar and lifted him up, pinning him against a tree off the side of the road they were walking on. " _How_ do you know all this? Are you a wolf too? Who are you?" Isaac shoved him harder against the tree with each question.

"Isaac! Relax!" Peter cried. "I'm not a werewolf, I just... I just know, okay?"

"Why are you telling me this? That I can't trust Scott?"

"Because, you're in danger. Deucalion doesn't want Derek. He wants Scott."

Isaac loosened his grip slightly but kept Peter levitated a few inches off of the ground. "Why should I trust you?"

"Why shouldn't you? I'm just trying to help you," Peter retaliated.

"How? How are you helping me?" Isaac demanded.

"By suggesting you go back to Derek. It's safer with him. Even if it doesn't look like it what with Boyd and all... trust me. It's for the best."

Isaac dropped him to his feet and he fell to his knees. He picked himself up to his feet and brushed off his knees and hands. "Thanks for that," Peter called out sarcastically.

"You know, you have some nerve, coming up to me and telling me this shit. Not only do you know everything about me to the point where it is beyond creepy, but you won't say how you know it, and you expect me to trust you." He chuckled. "You're a character."

"Isaac. I can't tell you how I know. And I understand how this looks. But you have to trust me. You need to distance yourself from Scott."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're putting yourself in danger."

"That's not good enough. My life is always in danger."

Peter sighed and met Isaac's eyes again. Still intimidating, but there was something different about his gaze, like maybe Isaac was looking for a real answer out of this mess and he just needed the right push. He just needed to trust Peter.

"Look, Isaac, this is going to sound really weird. But, the truth is, I kinda care about you. I want to see you make it out of this alive. And leaving Scott nearly guarantees that."

Isaac rolled his eyes and laughed. "Oh, God, what are you, a prophet? An angel sent from above?" Isaac twirled his fingers as if playing a piano as he stepped closer to Peter. "You're crazy."

"You know what's crazy? Not wanting to kill people who deserve to die, Isaac. That's Scott's plan. He wants to talk it out over a candlelit dinner with friendly old Deucalion. How do you think that's going to end up, Isaac? I'll tell you. Either he convinces Scott to kill you in order to have him join his alpha pack, or he _forces_ Scott to kill you like they did to Derek with Boyd. There is no scenario where you come out alive."

Isaac kept his face stern and tense with anger, but his mind began to wonder. What if this kid is right? But how can he be? How can he know all this?

"Isaac, bad people deserve to die. That's just how it is. Justice must be served."

Isaac's eyes narrowed.

"Just like your father. He had to die..."

Isaac lunged at Peter before he could finish his thought and tackled him to the ground. " _What the hell did you just say about my father?_ "

Peter's eyes widened at Isaac's claws which had been fully drawn, hovering over his face and ready to slice at his neck. He began to laugh. "Do it, Isaac. Do it. Be the murderer you were bitten to be. Let it all out. _Do it_ ," Peter egged him on. "Your father... deserved... to die."

Isaac's arm took over before his mind could contemplate the consequences, and with one swift movement, he ripped right through the air at nothing. Peter vanished.

Isaac, surprised at first, realized quickly that he had been hallucinating the whole time. He lowered his face into his wrists, allowing his claws to retract, and began to cry. He damn near killed somebody without hesitation, and it horrified him.

"Well, glad to see we're not afraid to murder."

Isaac jerked around to see Derek's uncle Peter standing behind him. "P-Peter?!"

"Someone's late to catch on. I almost gave myself a different name, but I see that wasn't necessary anyway. Yeah, that was me in my glory days," he spoke as if nothing had happened with his arms folded against his chest.

"What the _hell_ was that about?!" Isaac shouted, shuffling to his feet.

"My attempt to get you to come back to us. You know all the reasons why. And now, I know that given the right fuel, you'll slit throats without hesitation. A valuable skill when you're up against a pack of murderers, that's for sure. There's no time for negotiation, Isaac. You know that. Scott is delirious. We need you where your talents are most viable. We need you where you were meant to be, what you were bitten for."

"I... I don't..."

"You don't, what, want to leave Scott? Jesus, just screw already and get over all that sexual tension. Then, when you're done with that, come back to where you belong, Isaac," he pleaded. "I wasn't lying when I said I cared about you. Derek made a good choice when he bit you. I really do want to see you make it out alive."

"What, so you can keep using me to fight your battles?"

Peter sighed. "Come find me when you're done being an angsty teenager. I've told you everything that needed to be told. In the end, the choice is yours, Isaac. I'm just giving you the easy way out. The prophecy, if you will."

"Thanks. I'll be sure to get back to you," Isaac called out sarcastically as Peter walked away up the road and out of sight.

Isaac sat under the tree and tilted his head back against the bark, looking up to the light that filtered through the thick leaves and just barely made it to the ground. He exhaled. He reached into his pocket for his phone and sent a text message to Scott:

_You hungry? Let's meet for lunch. Tacos._


	2. Chapter 2

"He _what_?"

"He like... made me hallucinate himself as a teenager. And he was trying to convince me to move back in with them. To keep me safe, he insisted," Isaac took a large bite of his taco.

"Safe from what?" Scott asked.

With his mouth still full of taco, Isaac took his time chewing before revealing what Peter had told him about Scott.

"He..." he wiped his mouth before speaking, "he told me about your little secret."

"What secret?" Scott didn't seem nervous so much as genuinely curious. If he was truly playing dumb, he was doing a damn good job at it.

"That you're an alpha, Scott," Isaac finally swallowed.

"I'm a _what_?" Scott seemed bewildered.

"An... alpha..." Isaac began to grow suspicious of Peter's accusation.

"Isaac, I don't... what? Where the hell did he get that from?" He paused. "I mean... Deaton did say something about he saw my eyes go red that night... but I don't know. He was out of it. I'm not an alpha..." Scott's words seemed to tremble. "I don't know, Isaac."

"Scott," Isaac remained calm and reached over to pat Scott's arm. "I believe you. It's okay," he tried his best to be reassuring but he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Scott _was_ as delirious as Peter had said. He doesn't even know whether or not he's an alpha. "Look, let's just talk about something else."

Scott willingly changed the subject and they finished their tacos and were out the door. Isaac didn't get in Scott's car. "Not coming?" Scott asked as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"I'm gonna walk. I want some fresh air. I'll meet you back at your place soon."

"You sure? Alright..." Scott didn't question it, though he seemed a bit worried. "Call me if anything happens." And he drove away.

Isaac made his way to the outskirts of town and found the cliff that overlooks downtown Beacon Hills and its city lights. There was a large boulder on which he sat for a while, gazing out to the purple-orange blend of sunset sky.

"You know, Isaac, him not knowing he's an alpha makes this whole situation much more dangerous than I had previously imagined."

Isaac jumped when he turned and saw Peter, in his teenage form again, sitting beside him.

"What the..." Isaac was startled. "What the hell are you doing, Peter? I'm done playing your stupid tricks. How did you even know about that? Scott and I had that conversation in private."

"Well, to answer the last question, when I tried to read your memories after we got you back a few weeks ago, it seems a part of me was left in your head. Unintentionally, of course. But I'm up there, alright. How else do you think I'm able to make you hallucinate me? I'm no magician," he explained.

"Great. That's just great," Isaac nodded sarcastically. "I thought our conversation was over."

"Well, you see, I recall you saying you'd get back to me. But that's besides the point. These new revelations that have surfaced make my points even more valid. It's my job to make sure _you're_ aware of that, so that you can make the right decisions."

"I'm not leaving Scott. Derek kicked me out, and I'm not going to beg for his forgiveness," he sounded bitter.

"Derek kicked you out because he thought he'd have to kill you. Now that I know that's not true, and boy will he be mad when he finds out about that, you're welcome to come back," Peter tried to sound as kind as possible.

Isaac sighed.

"Oh, come on, Isaac. If Scott doesn't even _know_ he's an alpha, that means he also doesn't know that he's Deucalion's real target, and that means that he's just all the more reckless. And dangerous. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Yeah, plenty," Isaac tried hard to stand his ground but Peter could sense him being swayed little by little.

Peter slid himself a little closer to Isaac, their legs now just barely making contact. "Isaac, I know how you feel about Scott. Trust me. I am literally inside your head. But you have to realize that what he's doing is suicide."

"What you don't understand is that's exactly why he needs me with him. I can tell him all of this and help him," Isaac tried to turn the tables.

"You know that won't be effective. Scott is as thick-skulled as thick-skulled gets. He won't kill them. And eventually, it won't only be because he doesn't want to. It'll be because he can't. He'll die trying. That's his character," Peter's voice was lowered to a whisper. He stared into the side of Isaac's face, which was fixated on the city below.

"You don't know him like I do... he'll listen to me. I can help him," Isaac tried to convince himself that he was right.

"Isaac, you're lying to yourself. Come on." Just then, Peter placed his hand on Isaac's leg. "You can't save everyone. You know that."

Isaac turned and shot him an icy glare. "You gonna bring up my father again, asshole?"

"I didn't mean that before. I was just testing your limits. I'm sorry. It was rude of me." Isaac relaxed a bit as he looked back out on the horizon. He didn't seem to mind how close Peter was getting to him.

With a heavy exhale, "Peter, I..." he knew he wanted to say something but he didn't know what to say.

"We can't all be heroes." Peter's face was within inches of Isaac's when Isaac turned to him. Their eyes could barely keep each other in focus. "Trust me, Isaac," Peter breathed and Isaac could feel it on his lips. He could hear his own heart beat accelerating. " _This_ is what's right."

Just then Isaac's phone vibrated. He snapped out of what felt like a spell and jerked back away from Peter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It was Scott:

_Everything ok?_

"Peter... I... I can't, I can't. I'm sorry. I gotta go."

"Isaac..." Peter felt him slipping away.

"I'm sorry. I can't leave Scott. You're wrong. I can help him," Isaac spoke quickly as he slid off the rock. "I gotta go. I'm sorry, Peter," he scurried away through the trees and disappeared into the woods, shaken at how close he'd gotten to Peter.

"Isaac!" Peter called out again but he was only answered by his echo.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to [camdenlahey.tumblr.com](http://camdenlahey.tumblr.com), my main inspiration for writing/continuing this!

Isaac reached the road again and found it many shades darker out than it had been earlier. The dense, tall trees blocked any of the remaining sun rays from reaching the asphalt. He walked along the shoulder, balancing one foot on the pavement and one foot on the dirt. He dug his hands into his pockets and curled them into fists.

Peter was wrong. Scott needed Isaac. At least that's what Isaac told himself. As smart as Scott was, if Peter was to be believed, he would need some guidance. If it was suicide staying with Scott, it was homicide leaving him out cold.

He pulled his phone out and quickly tapped a reply to Scott:

_Yeah, on my way back._

* * *

Isaac arrived at the McCall residence just as night fell and found the ground floor empty. Mrs. McCall must have already left for her night shift, leaving Scott alone, who was most likely upstairs in his room. Sure enough, Isaac floated up the stairs to find a thin strip of light underneath Scott's bedroom door, and the sound of Scott typing away on his laptop. Isaac had just rest his fingers on his room's doorknob when Scott poked his head out into the hallway. He must have heard Isaac the second he came in the door.

"Hey! You all good?"

"Yeah, just took a nice long walk. It was good," Isaac tried his hardest to remain calm and to keep his heartbeat steady for fear of Scott catching his bluff. Thankfully, Scott didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary when he replied with his signature, infectious smile. Or he did and he chose to ignore it.

"Cool. Food's on the counter in the kitchen if you're hungry, just, when you're done, can you just stick it in the fridge please?" Isaac nodded in reply and Scott did as well, a sort of a reply to a reply, before retreating back into his room.

Spaghetti. Again. He couldn't complain, really. All Derek had at his apartment were frozen TV dinners and raw oatmeal.

Back in his room he finished his food, pulled out what little homework he had and rushed through it quickly, then found himself in his bed with his mind exactly where it was a few hours ago.

Peter was wrong and Scott needed Isaac, at least that's what Isaac tried to convince himself. But how was he going to help? What if he just barged into Scott's room right now and told him? What if Scott thought he was crazy? What if Scott wouldn't listen?

What if Peter was right?

As his mind wavered, he noticed himself sweating and realized the air vents in his room weren't letting any air in. He gathered his things and left his room, passing by Scott's with pillow in hand and blanket dragging on the floor, making his way towards the couch downstairs. Scott stopped him. "Where you headed?"

"Couch. My room is hot as balls."

"Oh, I love balls!" Scott joked and pulled a chuckle out of Isaac. "Why not just crash in here with me? It's kind of hot downstairs too."

Isaac hesitated for a moment when he thought, hey, why not? He turned and made a makeshift bed of his blankets on Scott's floor, right at the foot of Scott's. "I've never had a sleepover before," he joked.

"Oh, you're in for a hoot. I like to read, stay up texting, then go to sleep and snore. Just ask Stiles."

"Don't lie to me, you don't read."

"You're right. I just text and snore." They shared a laugh and Scott hit the light switch beside his door, shut it, and made his way to his bed and laid down. Isaac stretched himself out along his blanket and folded it over himself into a makeshift quesadilla, resting his hands on his chest. From where his head was, he could just barely make out Scott's silhouette on top of his bed, glowing a bit from the light that shone in through his window.

Maybe now wasn't the right time. That didn't stop him.

"Scott. What are you gonna do?"

"About what?" Scott shifted a bit.

"The alphas. What are you planning on doing?"

Scott sighed for a long time. "I don't know."

"You always have a plan, though..."

"Not this time."

Maybe Isaac could take advantage of that and formulate the plan himself, he thought. Confidently, he replied, "You know we need to stop them by any means necessary. I don't think they're the bargaining type." Scott remained quiet. "We're probably going to have to kill them to win, Scott."

"...We're not going to kill anybody," Scott finally muttered. Isaac could hear the pout he was wearing on his face.

"Do you understand who we're dealing with, Scott? These are literally serial murderers. And they want _you_ to join them. How are you planning on talking your way out of that one?" Isaac shot back.

"I told you, I don't know what the plan is. But we're not killing anybody," he stood his ground.

The sound of crickets filled the room when Isaac, at a sharp contrast to his previously raised voice, murmured, "Scott, you realize you'd be putting me in danger too, right?"

"Putting you in dange— wait a second. Is this about Peter? Asking you to come back to Derek's?"

"What? No! I'm just saying that..."

"...that you don't trust me?"

"Scott, I _do_ trust you, what the hell? I'm just saying that you need to be more realistic. We're in _real_ danger, and you— _we_ need to do something about it." He was sitting up now, the blankets bunched up at his lap, leaning on one hand.

"Is that what Peter told you?" Scott's tone was colored with a hint of condescending.

"Can you leave him out of this?"

"I'm not killing anybody, Isaac. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks is the right thing to do. I just need some time to figure out a plan."

"There is no time, Scott! Stop being so goddamned stubborn! This isn't a game anymore!" His yelling was hoarse with frustration and his hair bounced when the words came out. His veins were embossed against his face, glistening with small droplets of sweat.

Scott sat up, his face concealed in shadows but his outline highlighted by the window behind him. "I'm not holding you back." Isaac could just barely make out his eyes. They looked heavy. "You can go."

"What?" Isaac breathed and the jagged veins in his head sank back under his skin.

"I'm not a killer, Isaac. That's probably why Peter wanted you to come back, isn't it? Because he doesn't think I'll be able to handle it?"

"Scott..." Isaac's gaze fell to the floor.

"I bet the Hale family can, though. They have a great track record so far."

"Scott, listen..."

He tried to interject.

"Isaac, stop it. You're not going to convince me to kill anyone. If that's what you think is right, you can go back to them," he paused for a moment and laid back down. "Where you're safe."

Isaac was left all but speechless. He got up from the floor and took one last look at Scott. "Fine." He grabbed his duffle bag from his room, which carried what few belongings he had with him, and made his way down the stairs and out the front door.

Scott sat up again and saw the remains of Isaac's makeshift bed on his floor. He dug his forehead into the palms of his hands.

* * *

Isaac tried to walk along the fading white shoulder line on the road like it was a balance beam. He would have fallen multiple times if it was.

Peter was right. Scott didn't need Isaac. At least that's what it felt like.

He walked and walked for what seemed like hours. He wore a hoodie with the hood draped over his head and the duffle bag slung over one shoulder. His steps were heavy.

Peter was _right_. Isaac didn't know how that made him feel.

Scott didn't need Isaac. He knew how that made him feel. It wasn't good.

He didn't realize where he was until he looked up and saw his old house standing before him. He couldn't tell how he got there, but for some odd reason, he was relieved. What once was a torture chamber was now a place where Isaac could be alone for a little while.

He walked around to the back and shook the kitchen door until it opened up. His father had never gotten around to fixing the lock. The house had been left virtually untouched since that night, though someone had swept up the glass from the kitchen floor. He walked over the tiles to the living room and dropped his bag by the couch, where he sat himself down with a heavy exhale.

Suddenly, his breath wasn't the only sound he heard.

"That didn't go so well, did it? I hate to say it, but, you know. Told you so." Peter, in his young form again, met Isaac's eyes when he turned.

"Why are you here?" Isaac spoke uttered through pursed lips.

"To welcome you back."

"And why do you insist on talking to me like... this?"

"Honestly? I get lazy. This is much easier." He reached his hand over to Isaac's back and rubbed it gently in circles.

"Don't touch me." Isaac growled.

"Alright, alright, no need to get feisty. But seriously, welcome back."

"Who says I'm coming back?" He turned to Peter and scratched at his chin, squinting his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know, Scott? When he kicked you out?" Peter replied with the same hint of attitude.

"I'm not leaving him. I can still talk to Scott. There's still hope..."

"Are...are you kidding me? Isaac? Really? You're just as thick-skulled as he is," he chuckled. "The kid is hopeless. He's on his own."

"He's not..."

" _Yes_ he is. You heard him. You're not convincing anyone. Isaac, you're with us now."

"Peter, will you just—"

Peter slid off the couch and knelt in front of Isaac and grabbed him by his forearms. "Isaac! You are with _us_ now." His eyes were piercing.

Isaac felt his pulse rising and whatever it was in the pit of his stomach growing. He rolled his jaw but remained silent.

Calmer now, Peter reiterated, "You're mine now."

Isaac didn't know what was happening until Peter's lips finally released from his and he gasped for air. When he opened his eyes, he jumped into the back of the couch.

"Hello there." Uncle Peter, no longer a hallucination, sat on his knees before Isaac while a sly grin creeped across his face and caused the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes to deepen.

"How did you..." Isaac's mouth was agape.

"Don't worry about it. Just know that I want to experience you first hand."

"Peter—"

"Shh..." Peter interrupted him with a line of kisses that started centered on Isaac's lips but slowly trailed off to the corner of his mouth and up along the curvature of Isaac's chiseled jaw.

"Peter, stop, listen to me..." Isaac tried to resist but he knew how much a part of him longed for affection. And the more Peter's hot breaths and wet lips brushed over his skin, the more that part of him gained control. But _Peter_ , of all people? Peter, the psychopath uncle? Peter, the old washed-up has-been alpha? Peter, the one who's stubble scraped against Isaac's smooth neck where his trail of kisses had taken him, and fuck if Isaac dared to deny how much it turned him on.

"Shut up," Peter huffed into Isaac's neck. His hand was up Isaac's shirt, searching, groping, massaging, eventually resting by his chest with his fingers wrapping around to his back.

Isaac's hands didn't know what to do. He had one awkwardly placed on Peter's shoulder and the other at his side, all but limp. Actually, Isaac's entire body didn't know what to do. The heat of the moment was almost too much for him to handle. And then suddenly, it _was_ too much.

Peter sank his fangs into Isaac's neck slightly, drawing some blood and a sharp gasp from Isaac. It also seemed to snap him out of his trance, because he pulled back, flustered, and yelled, "What the _fuck_ , Peter?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," Peter smiled mischievously, sitting back on his heels.

"Peter. Not that. All of this. What are you _doing_?" Isaac's voice was sharp.

"Does it really need explanation? Don't they teach you guys this shit in school?" Isaac's head dropped but his eyes remained narrowed on Peter. "Isaac... you're forgetting that I am literally in your head. You may think you hate me, but..." he paused for a laugh, "let's just say it's a pack thing. It happens. Trust me. Now come on, don't ruin the mood," Peter raised himself up to his knees again, ready to pounce.

"Is this why you wanted me back? Is this why you really made me leave Scott?" Isaac was anything but amused. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Are you kidding me? Isaac, when I said I cared about you, I was being honest. I _do_ care about you, and I want you to make it out alive. That's why you left Scott, because you understand that it's the right decision. Now this," Peter snickered, "this is just a bonus."

"Peter, I just..."

"Stop fucking talking already." Peter, like an animal in heat, launched from his knees and onto Isaac, pressing his body into his, which subsequently sank into the back of the couch. Soft moans and desperate, passionate breaths hung in the air in the room when Peter's tongue slipped into Isaac's mouth. His hips grinded on Isaac's lap in rhythm with their breathing. Isaac found his thinking clouded again and lost himself in the moment. His hands began to wiggle to life, finding their way to the fabric of Peter's shirt and tugging gently. Peter's rugged hands wrapped themselves firmly around Isaac's neck and waist.

Peter broke the kiss for moment to allow Isaac to clumsily peel off Peter's shirt. "Watch..." he warned, afraid Isaac would tear it. Isaac grabbed at his own shirt and slipped it off as well which disheveled his hair a bit. Peter couldn't resist sliding his fingers through the thick mane on Isaac's head and then abruptly stopping and closing his fingers into a tight fist, pulling the hair at the roots. He forced Isaac's head back and lowered himself onto him again, diving tongue-first into Isaac's mouth. The dusting of hairs on Peter's chest and abs tickled Isaac's smooth, pale body as they rubbed against one another.

Peter was like fire and Isaac his ignition, his fuel, his oxygen. He fed off of his body with every tug of Isaac's lips between his fangs.

Isaac gripped at the skin of Peter's back and dug his fingers into him, taking care not to scratch him _too hard_ with his claws that had involuntarily exposed themselves. Peter's mouth had dropped to just below Isaac's earlobe, then into the dip above his collarbone, down the ridge in between his pecs, over the subtle ripples of his abs, and hovered just above his naval. His warm exhales raised goosebumps on Isaac's skin like a trail of breadcrumbs.

Isaac's head was still tilted back and his eyes were still closed. He bit down on his bottom lip and and his breaths were more drawn out as Peter quickly undid Isaac's belt buckle, button and zipper, and tugged at his pants. Not wanting to unnecessarily hasten the moment, he kept Isaac's black boxer briefs in place and admired the view of Isaac laying there, high on his own ecstasy, his jeans crumpled at his ankles and his body all but nude.

This couldn't have been right. Peter couldn't have been right. But _fuck_ , was it good. It was so good, Isaac reassured himself.

But what would Scott think? Who cares what Scott would think? Scott didn't need Isaac. And Isaac, as he slowly came to realize, didn't need Scott. Not right now, at least. He needed—no, wanted— _no, needed_ Peter. But honestly, it didn't matter which one it was.

All that mattered was the way Peter teased with his fangs against the length of Isaac's bulge through the fabric of his underwear. Isaac inhaled sharply through his teeth as the combination of pain and pleasure drowned his brain in endorphins. He kept biting on his bottom lip and let out a drawn out, breathy "Ffff....fuck." He felt Peter's lips stretch into a grin against his package and then felt the man's fingers sliding under the elastic of his boxer briefs and tugging, gently at first, then roughly when the garment wouldn't come off easily. With both hands at Isaac's hips and a quick yank, Isaac was completely nude and Peter's eyes were wide with hunger. Without hesitation, Peter swallowed Isaac whole, and then some.

Isaac was on cloud nine. Ten if there was one.

Peter was skillful when going down on Isaac, using his teeth carefully to tease him. He felt Isaac growing harder against the inside of his cheek and he was pleased with himself. He ran his large, veiny hands up Isaac's bare torso, his finger tips electric in their touch as they ran over his nipples and grabbed at his chest.

Isaac's heavy breathing fell into deep, guttural moans, but Peter wasn't ready to send him over the edge just yet. He was just getting started. He let his mouth off of Isaac and stood up, licking at his lips. He undid his belt and in one swift motion, his pants and boxers were kicked off into a pile on the floor. He walked around the side of the couch and gestured for Isaac to sit up. Isaac's face was level with Peter's masculinity, which stood hard and ready. Isaac looked up at it and at Peter's face with his mouth slightly open, still visibly lost in a whirlpool of euphoria.

Peter grabbed at Isaac's hair and all but shoved himself into Isaac's mouth, halfway at first, then working up to the base. His abs stirred with every thrust of his hips into Isaac's face, barely giving the boy time to breathe. His throat was a snug fit for Peter's girth and the feeling of being _filled_ was almost too much, especially for his first time. To Peter's fortune, Isaac wasn't half bad.

"Hey, hey—watch the teeth. Your fangs are long," Peter directed as he pushed Isaac down on him. Isaac had one hand cradling Peter at his base, there to stop him from choking himself, while his other was busy jerking himself off in rhythm with the rolling of Peter's hips into his face. Peter felt pressure building at the base of his crotch, an unmistakable sensation letting him know that he was nearing the point of no return. But he still wasn't ready for this to be over. With one final grunt, he retreated from Isaac's wet mouth and took a step back, unable to hold back a devilish smirk as he reveled in the moment. Wearing only that, he found his way to the bathroom.

"P-peter?" Isaac's voice cracked when he spoke without realizing how much saliva had built up in his throat. Peter came back a few moments later with a bottle of lotion he found in the medicine cabinet.

"This'll do. You're lucky I'm not a savage." Isaac knew now what was coming and he wasn't sure if he was ready. Half of him was still see-sawing between whether or not this was even _right_ , and the other half of him, the bottom half specifically, wanted Peter inside of him, to take him to places he's never been before.

His bottom half won out when he found himself sliding his back down onto the seat of the couch, positioning himself for Peter. Peter pumped a few globs of lotion and lathered both himself and Isaac up and, before Isaac had a chance to react, he slid himself in. Inch-by-inch, centimeter-by-centimeter, Peter disappeared into Isaac until his pubic hairs tickled Isaac's bottom. Peter grabbed at Isaac's legs under the knee and held on for support as he worked himself in and out of Isaac slowly, loosening him a bit, before increasing his tempo and, in-turn, their tones.

Guttural groans turned to emphatic moans and gasps for air between slaps of skin, gradually increasing in intensity. Peter lowered his body onto Isaac's so that his face was floating just above his. His eyes were glowing a dull, deep blue and Isaac felt them burning into his soul. He stared back with his bright yellow eyes, the color creeping into his corneas like a virus.

One of Peter's hands wrapped around Isaac's neck and he plunged into Isaac with greater force. The pressure began surging again and Peter knew that he was getting very close. What he didn't realize was that Isaac's loud whining wasn't just because of Peter's thrusts. He could smell it coming, and within seconds, Isaac exploded all over his and Peter's chests and abs, his body bucking involuntarily. Isaac tightened around Peter and it was more than enough to send him soaring over the edge. He dropped his head into Isaac's neck and let loose a low growl before sinking his fangs into Isaac's shoulder just as he released his seed deep inside of him. Isaac yelped in pain at the initial sting of the bite, which began to heal almost immediately. Peter remained there for a bit, his body twitching, huffing out steam with his quick exhales, the taste of blood teasing his lips.

His breaths turned into laughs, subtle at first, but growing in volume until he raised his mouth to Isaac's ear where he dropped a whispered, "Thank you." Isaac, eyes still closed, face beaming as he set into the afterglow of his first time which was decidedly fantastic, smiled wide at Peter's words. Peter raised his head above Isaac's and Isaac took it as a cue to open his eyelids.

The blue in Peter's eyes was gone. Instead, he saw red.

Isaac blinked.

Red.

Peter, his voice like gravel, repeated, "Thank you."

Isaac felt an overwhelming sense of dread crushing him. "You..." was all he could manage to utter.

"Yeah. Me."


End file.
